Rock Bottom
by KjWolfsound
Summary: Eminem story, not 8 Mile story. No Eminem section. Cassidy's mother left when she was ten. Her father abused her for years while her brother was in jail. When Cassidy's father dies and Cassidy can't return home, what wiill she do. She's literally at rock bottom. No food, no money. Just her Eminem CDs, an iPod, and the clothes she's wearing. Will her hero save her once again?
1. Prologue

Cassidy was almost always alone. Her mother, Margret, left her when she was ten years old, which caused her father, Nick, to spiral into the alcoholic -and abusive- lifestyle. Her brother Jarod, who had a much stronger relationship with her mother than she had, became quite the troublemaker after Margret left. At first, Nick hadn't been abusive. He started with drinking only a few bottles a day, never more than five. Then after a year or so, he drank at least seven. That was when the abuse started. It was usually just a slap across the face, or grabbing an arm hard enough to leave a bruise. But then it progressed to pushing Jarod down the stairs sometimes, or burning one of them with one of his cigars.

After about two and a half years of Margret being gone, Jarod was arrested for assaulting someone at a bar whom he'd gotten into an arguement with. The person was sent to the hospital with internal bleeding and almost didn't make it. Jarod was sentenced to sixty-six months in prison. Five and a half years.

After about three years of Margret being gone, Nick had grown worse. The added anger from Jarod being arrested was physically released on Cassidy. Nick had grown into a heartless, cruel monster who would push his only daughter down the stairs without showing a hint of guilt. He would spit at her and tell her how much better off he would be if she was dead. He would tell her that she was the reason that Margret left. He would corner her in a room and punch her, and sometimes even kick her, in the stomach.

And it just continued that way. Cassidy, who was also secretly going through other problems in life, had no one to turn to. And even if she did, she wouldn't be able to reveal to anyone that her father was abusing her, which was the root to a majority of her problems. She knew that if she told anyone, she would be forced to go to a foster home or an orphanage. The idea of having to do that seemed even worse than the idea of continuing to be abused by her father.

Although Cassidy had no one to talk to, she did have someone to listen to. Marshall Bruce Mathers III. He was her hero. He was her idol. He was her safe haven whenever she wanted to cry because of what her father did to her, or what she did to herself, or what someone else did to her. Eminem, the rap god, the white guy from D12, was her hero. He was the only person she could turn to whenever life was once more using her as its punching bag, which was pretty much all the time. His music was the only thing that stopped her from letting go of the railing on the bridge she had once tried to jump off of. She knew almost every Eminem song there was. She wanted to know all of them. If she could, she would've learned every single Eminem song. But she couldn't. She had no money left after buying a bunch of his albums. Without stealing, she couldn't learn the others, and Cassidy wasn't a criminal.

She kept every album hidden in a box in the back of her closet where her father couldn't find them. And she did the same with her notebook and pen. Her notebook, filled with drawings she drew, songs and stories she wrote, and her favorite Eminem quotes, was the only thing on Earth apart from her that actually knew how she felt. And there were so many different things that Cassidy felt.

**A/N: Hello! If you're reading this, I'm assuming you're a Stan. If you don't know what that means, then I recommend you listen to Eminem much more than you currently do.**

**So I know this isn't much so far, and I know it's short, but oh well. This is the prologue, not a chapter. And this story kind of just came to me while listening to 'Rock Bottom'. I normally don't write stories -okay, I've never written a story- that have to do with celebrities, but Eminem is an exception. He's one of the only celebrities that I've ever actually been crazy about. Okay, he IS the only celebrity I've ever truly been crazy about. Which kinda sucks because all my family hates him. But anyway, this is the first story that has to do with a celebrity that I've ever written, so I hope you like. I'm only 13, so please try not to send too many virtual tomatoes at me if there's ever a time where you hate this story or something that happens in it. Anyway, peace out.**

**Your fellow Stan,**  
**Kelly**


	2. Chapter 1

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you aren't sleeping," Jarod said, taking the seat across from Cassidy. The small, round, steel table between them prevented any physical contact between the two.

"I'm not," Cassidy replied, her voice weak. She didn't meet her brother's eyes, afraid that if she did, he'd see that there was more pain in them than just the pain caused by her father. "How could I with Dad," she mumbled miserably, rolling her eyes.

Jarod sighed. "How bad is he now?" It had been about and three an a half years since Jarod was arrested, and just a little under six years since her mother left.

Cassidy bit her bottom lip. "Bad," she said in a faint whisper.

"How bad?" Jarod asked again, his expression grave.

Cassidy, glancing around to make sure none of the officers were looking directly at her, removed her hood and slightly moved her hair away from the side of her face for Jarod to see the bruise that was there. Jarod looked at her with a clenched jaw and a cold look in his eyes. Cassidy knew that the look wasn't directed at her, but at her father. She pulled the hood back up and let her hair cover the bruise on her cheek.

"When'd he do that?" Jarod asked in a low voice, anger clear in it.

"Last night." Cassidy replied.

"Is that a punch or a slap?" He asked even quieter.

"A punch," Cassidy replied quietly, "but I'm fine, Jar. I'm used to it by now. The bruise'll be gone in a couple of days."

Jarod's expression changed from angry to extremely concerned. "You're _used_ to it by now?" he asked. "He's punched you _before_?"

Cassidy sighed quietly. She only got to see Jarod once every month, and only for half an hour each time. With the exception of two phone calls a month, that was the only time they could talk face-to-face. The last time she'd seen him was May first, and now it was the fifteenth of July. A lot had changed in those forty-five days.

"Yeah," Cassidy sighed, keeping her voice quiet. "He started about a week after I last saw you." Cassidy saw that Jarod was going to say something and stopped him. "Look, Jarod, I'm fine, okay? Don't worry about me."

"Cassidy," Jarod said, clearly trying to control his anger, "you're telling me he's started punching you in the face. You can't tell me not to worry about you. And I know you're not fine. You just admitted you're not getting any sleep."

"Jarod," Cassidy said, her voice now firm, "I'm okay, alright? Let's just leave it at that. I really don't want to be talking about this for the whole time like we did last month."

"That time was different," Jarod said very seriously, giving his sister a serious look, "and we both know that."

Cassidy sighed quietly. "Let's not talk about that," she said quietly, knowing that if they got into the conversation she'd get upset and most likely cry. "There's too many people here. Last month was an exception because there was hardly anyone here."

Jarod nodded slightly. "At least he's leaving you alone," he said in a whisper, his voice showing his sadness.

He noticed Cassidy bite her lip. Biting her lip was always her biggest tell. When she bit her lip, it meant she was either lying or extremely worried or stressed.

There was a brief moment of silence, then Jarod spoke again. "Cassidy, you told me on the phone the week after we last saw each other that he was leaving you alone. You said the exact same thing last week. If you lied, if he's not actually leaving you alone, you need to tell me, because Cassidy, I swear to God, if he's still-"

"Jarod be quiet," Cassidy hissed quietly, knowing that Jarod would raise his voice if he continued. She glanced around, making sure no one in the room heard them. The last thing she needed was for the officers in the room to hear them.

Jarod just clenched his jaw. "Cassidy," he said in a quiet, yet extremely serious and even slightly angry voice, "tell me the truth. Is he leaving you alone?

Cassidy held back a sigh, and gave her brother a very serious look. Her eyes narrowed and locked on his in an attempt to let him know that she was serious about what she had to say. "Jarod, we're not having this conversation. Not here, not now. I am fine, Jarod. But I'm not talking about what he did."

Jarod continued to stare at her for a moment, then gave up and sighed, looking down at the table, when he knew she wasn't going to let him win. "Fine, but Cass, just promise you aren't going to get hurt. If he isn't leaving you alone, if he even walks down the same road as you-"

"I know Jarod," Cassidy assured him, "and don't worry. I'm fine and I'm not gonna get hurt."

Jarod nodded, and Cassidy sighed, leaning back in her seat. "So can we change the subject now? Please?"

Jarod nodded, grinning slightly. "So how was your birthday? I still can't believe you're sixteen already."

Cassidy smiled. She turned sixteen just the week before. "You remembered."

"Of coarse I remembered," Jarod said, "how could I forget?"

"You did last year," Cassidy replied, raising her eyebrows.

"Oh, you are _not_ seriously using that against me. You've done way worse."

"Like what?"

"Forgetting how old I was once."

"I was five!" Cassidy chuckled. "It's not my fault I said you were seven when you were really eight."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Jarod said, shaking his head, "keep using the 'I was five' excuse. Either way, you forgot how old I was." Cassidy just rolled her eyes, scoffing quietly at her brother.

They talked for the last twenty minutes that they were allowed to see each other for the month. When it was time to go, Cassidy sent her brother one last look, and he did the same to her. Then one police officer escorted Cassidy out of the visiting room while another brought Jarod back to his six by eight jail cell.

Cassidy, not in ownership of a car, had to take the bus home. No, she had to take the bus to her house. Her house was _not_ a home. She didn't feel safe in the small house. She didn't feel loved there. She certainly didn't feel happy there. In fact, the only thing she felt there was hurt. Both physically and emotionally. Her house was _not_ a home.

Once she was in a seat, she pulled the hood of her hoodie up over her head and immediately pulled out her iPod touch from her backpack. The iPod was a gift from her boss for her sixteenth birthday. Whenever she wasn't at school, doing homework, or being screamed at and hit by her father, Cassidy was almost always working as a cleaner at a local dinner. She'd started working there when she was thirteen. She needed the money to buy food sometimes. When her father was sober, which was only two or three times a week, he would do the shopping. But when he wasn't, Cassidy had to do the shopping. Usually, she paid with money that her father kept in a jar for such purposes, but sometimes her father was so out of it that he'd flip at her for even touching the jar, convinced that she was stealing the money. She also used the money to buy Eminem albums from one of the nearby music stores.

Her boss paid her a decent amount of money, and was like a grandfather figure to her. He was probably in his sixties or seventies, and absolutely loved Cassidy. He got her something for her birthday every year. For her fifteenth, he got her an Eminem album that she couldn't afford to buy. For her fourteenth, he got her a new DVD player and a hoodie that he knew she would love, knowing that she couldn't afford either of the things. He probably knew her better than anyone else, with the exception of Jarod. The dark skinned old man was her best friend. In fact, he was her only friend. Cassidy didn't have any friends at school. It wasn't that she was anti-social. She was just shy. She found it hard to trust people. Apart from Jarod and Bill Dawson, her boss, everyone she ever cared about or once trusted hurt her somehow. She was scared to trust, worried that if she ever did trust someone enough to become their friend, they would hurt her somehow.

Cassidy had used all the money that Bill had put on her iTunes account, and all of it was on Eminem music. She put in her earbuds, hit shuffle, and stared out the window as the song "So Far..." began playing.

Three songs later, the bus stopped to pick up and drop off other people. The bus was almost empty, thankfully. She was glad that no one would have to sit next to her. Given the fact that it was eleven at night in the middle of Detroit, she didn't really want to have to sit with anyone.

Three people got onto the bus, and instead of sitting on one of the many seats, one of them sat down next to her. She didn't make eye contact with the person, in fact, she didn't even acknowledge him. She just kept staring out the window, earbuds in her ears. The smart thing to do was ignore the person and hope they weren't asking for trouble.

She heard the person say something, but acted as though she couldn't hear them. Then he tugged on her earbuds, pulling them out. She bit her bottom lip, as she usually did when she was worried or stressed. She tensed as she recognized the smell of his deodorant. He pulled her hood off of her head, and grabbed some of her hair in one hand.

Cassidy just clenched her jaw, taking a few deep, but shaky breath. She prayed that he wouldn't try anything. They were on a bus. If he did anything wrong, there would be witnesses. There was even a camera on the bus.

He pulled back on her hair a bit, causing her head to tilt back a bit. "You weren't off talking to that brother of yours, were ya?" he asked in a spine-tingling whisper. Cassidy shuddered slightly at being able to feel his breath. Hid mouth was just an inch away from her ear. Cassidy didn't reply, afraid of what would happen if she did. "Yeah you were," he snarled quietly, "I saw ya. You know, I really do hate you being so close with other guys. It kinda hurts my feelings. You don't wanna hurt my feelings, do ya CAL?"

Cassidy closed her eyes, letting out a shaky breath. The way he called her Cal unnerved her. How he even knew her full name, Cassidy Andrea Lancaster, she didn't know, but he knew it alright. He'd made it known that he knew when he pointed out to her what his little pet name for her was. And she didn't even know how he knew that Jarod was her brother.

After a few seconds, he spoke again. "I hope you aren't thinking of visiting him again anytime soon, CAL. Or anytime again. Because if there's one thing I hate, it's girls who cheat on guys. You wouldn't do that to me, would you CAL? I sure hope not, because I'd hate to have to teach you what happens when you cheat on me."

He tugged on her hair one last time, then he stood up once the bus stopped. "This is my stop," he said, grinning devilishly at Cassidy, who was now looking at him with watery, fearful eyes, "bye, CAL."

Once he was off of the bus and the vehicle began moving again, Cassidy began trembling slightly as tears rolled down her face. She pulled her hood back up and stuck the earbuds back in her ears, then pressed her head against the back of the seat in front of her as she willed herself not to cry anymore. She didn't want to be noticed, because if she was, questions would arise. She could cry once she was in her bedroom, although it's have to be silent crying. She didn't want to risk getting punished by her father for being upset.

She remembered the last time her father had heard her crying.

_Fifteen year old Cassidy plopped onto her bed, burying her face in the pillow as her tears soaked the white fabric. She let out loud sobs, unable to control her emotions properly. She couldn't stand the pain in her side, stomach, and face._

_She'd been stupid to try to take the shortcut home. How the hell could she think it would be smart to cross through a dark alley in the middle of the night? She'd gotten mugged by a few guys, probably the same age as her. She was now fifty-three dollars short, which was a lot of money to her. Sure, she was relieved that the three guys hadn't decided to rape or kidnap or kill her, but they'd certainly enjoyed kicking and punching her in the stomach, side, and a few times in the face._

_She's been kicked and punched by her father before, but this hurt worse, somehow. Probably because it was three guys all at once._

_As she sobbed loudly, she completely forgot that her drunk father was downstairs trying to watch TV. After a minute or two, he bursted into the room and pushed his daughter off of the bed. There wasn't a hint of sympathy, care, or worry in his eyes when he saw the bruises on her face. He simply just started screaming at her about how she was a horrible daughter who should be dead._

_He kicked her in the stomach, making the pain even worse, and she crawled into the back corner. She knew it was a stupid move. He ended up punching and kicking her in the stomach and side even more, and he sent a furious punch at her face. She just curled up into a ball, held back her cries, and waited for the punishment to be over. Once it was carried out and done with, her father left, slamming her door. Cassidy just slept there for the night, too afraid to even move in fear of the floor creaking and making a sound that would anger her father once again._

Cassidy shuddered at the memory. She knew if she cried out loud, she'd receive an even worse punishment. He had gotten worse the past year, and Cassidy knew her injuries would be a lot worse if she cried out loud.

She regained her composure after a moment, and when the bus stopped on her street, she got out. As she walked home, she could see the lights from what she assumed was a police car or an ambulance up ahead. It wasn't anything new for police cars to be nearby, or even parked on the street, and it was the same way with ambulances. Then she realized that only some of the lights were from police cars and an ambulance. Two firetrucks were parked just outside of her house.

She started running towards her house, and her mouth fell open when she saw that it was no longer a house. Just a burnt, unstable building. She looked around for her father, partly hoping he was okay, although a part of her was hoping he wasn't. The only real reason she wanted him to be alive was because she couldn't buy a house or buy all of the food she needed.

Then she saw a big black bag next to police officers. "Who is he?" one officer asked another.

"Nicholas Lancaster," another officer replied, "a firefighter pulled him out, but he was already dead."

"Anyone else live there?"

"Yeah, he had a sixteen year old daughter, Cassidy Lancaster. The firefighters cleared the place, looks like she wasn't there during the fire."

"Okay. Did they find out if she has any family to contact to take custody of her or anything?"

"None who aren't in jail," the other responded casually, "looks like she'll have to go into foster care or something. All she had is an older brother who's still in jail."

Cassidy's jaw opened even more. Foster care? She couldn't go into foster care. How could she do that if she couldn't even trust anybody?

"Hey," someone said, tapping her on the shoulder. She turned to see a firefighter looking at her. "You can't be this close to the building. You gotta be at the street at closest."

Cassidy just stared at him for a moment, to lost in her thoughts to respond.

"Hey," he said after a short moment, "you okay kid?"

Casssidy just closed her mouth, realizing that she was being spoken to, and turned towards the road. Once she was on the road, those two words played over and over again in her head. _Foster care._

She made up her mind, and began running down the road closer to the middle of the city, somewhere hardly anyone would be able to recognize her. She couldn't risk being found. She couldn't go into foster care. She knew what she had to do, even if it meant having no home at all.

**A/N: ok, hope you liked it. I know there's not really any actual Eminem in it yet, but there will be soon. It's 3:30 a.m. right now, and I'm exhausted, so I'm going to sleep. Goodbye my fellow Stans, a new update soon, I promise.**

**Your fellow Stan,**  
**Kelly**


	3. Chapter 2

Cassidy stopped running once she knew she was far enough away from her home. She couldn't see anyone around, and walked a few feet into an alley that she was certain was empty because there was a lamppost on the other side, showing that no one was there. She leaned against the wall and let out a shaky breath as she slid down onto the ground, pulling her knees up to her chest. She let out a quiet sob and the tears started rushing down her face.

For so long, she put up with her father's abuse with no one but herself, her father, and Jarod knowing about it. For years, she didn't say anything because she knew it would mean she'd have to go into foster care. For years, she was beaten. A majority of the time, it wasn't her face, because even while drunk, her father knew that someone at school would see the bruises. A majority of the bruises were on either her side, stomach, or arms. Places no one would see them. Her arms were bruised from how he'd grab her at times. The marks on her arms were always covered by one of her long-sleeved hoodies. Sometimes she'd have bruises on her legs because of her father pushing her down the stairs or kicking them at times. Now, after years of hiding her bruises, or lying about the cause when someone saw them, she'd have to go into foster care anyway.

Cassidy was going to be allowed to move out of the house in two years. Then she would be free. And if her father wouldn't let her, _then_ she'd tell someone who could get him arrested. As soon as she was eighteen, she was going to leave.

But now the police wanted her to go into foster care? They wanted her to trust another adult? She trusted her mother once, then she left. She certainly wasn't able to trust her father. She hardly even trusted the teachers at her school even though they never did anything to hurt her. In fact, the only adult she trusted was her boss who was like a grandfather to her. Sure, she never told him about what her father did to her. But he caught onto it. He would see her limping occasionally, and he sometimes saw the bruises on her face. He never said anything about it until one summer day when she thought she was alone in the store before it opened.

_Cassidy was mopping the floor and thought Bill was in the back room. She pulled up the sleeves of her hoodie for just a moment. The shop wasn't air-conditioned, so the shop was warmer than usual due to the excessively hot summer air._

_Cassidy only intended on having her sleeves up for a moment because she needed to cool down. She knew her bruises would no longer be covered up, and hesitated at first, then she figured Bill would just be in the back room for about ten minutes more like he usually was. The store was locked, so no one would come in._

_She only had her sleeves down for about a minute, still mopping, when she felt a strong hand on her shoulder. She gasped, immediately rolling down her sleeves. Bill turned her around, looking her straight in the eyes. His jaw was clenched, and he had a grave expression on his face. Cassidy could see the anger in his eyes that she knew wasn't directed towards her. She just stared at him, eyes wide and fearful, mouth dropped open. She was worried about what he was going to do. Would he call the cops? Would he show up at her house and yell at her father? Would he yell at _her_ for not letting him know what was going on?_

_"Cassidy," he said after a moment of sheer silence, obviously working hard to stay calm, "did he do that to you?"_

_"What? Who?" Cassidy said, trying to act like she had no idea what he meant, even though she knew it was futile._

_"You know who," Bill said, his voice low and serious._

_"I have no idea what you're talking about." She lied, pulling the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands as though she believed that she still had to keep the bruises a secret."Really, I don't."_

_She tried to turn around and continue mopping the floor, but Bill stopped her by putting a hand on her shoulder. "Cassidy I've seen you come in here with bruises on your face before, and even though it happens far too often, I've always given you the shadow of a doubt. I've always let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, each and every one is actually from tripping, or falling off your bike, or hitting your head off of something. I've always worried that that's not the case, but I've never said anything about my worries until now. But Cassidy right now I'm not just going to let this pass by because I know that those aren't from falling. I know that I can't force you to tell me about how you actually get all these bruises, and I know that if you don't tell me how you get them that I can't do anything about it, but Cassidy, I am not just going to ignore them. Now, I would really appreciate it if you tell me the truth right now, but if for some mad reason you don't want to, you don't have to. Did he do that to you?"_

_Cassidy swallowed nervously. Should she tell, or should she just lie like she always does. If she told, she knew that Bill would probably call the police and that she'd probably have to go to some sort of foster home. But if she didn't tell, then her dad would just keep abusing her. He'd keep hurting her. Maybe he'd even end up killing her. That should've been enough for her to tell, but there was one thing that was really stopping her from telling. The humiliation of it all. She knew the shame that would come to her if it was made known that she was beaten by her father for years and didn't tell anyone. And she couldn't live with that shame. She knew that that shame of it all would be worse than possibly having her father kill her._

_"I have no idea what you're talking about," Cassidy said calmly, turning around and returning to what she had been doing previously. And with that, Bill just sighed and shook his head as he started walking away.  
***_

Cassidy suffered through so much pain just so she wouldn't have to go into foster care, and now of the police found her, she'd have to go anyway. She wasn't about to let that happen. Wasn't about to accept that she kept it a secret that her father beat her for nothing.

She was afraid to trust another adult. She was afraid to trust in general. The only two people she trusted were her boss and her brother. She couldn't trust another adult.

Cassidy let the tears roll down her cheeks. Now she had practically nothing. No house. She couldn't return to her job. She was sure that Bill would hear about what happened within the next say or so. If she went to work, he'd probably let the police know. She couldn't go to school. They'd all hear about what happened and they'd tell someone. She couldn't go to see her brother. She wasn't allowed to for the rest of the month, and she feared that if she even tried a police officer would recognize her and send her to a foster home. All she had was what was in her backpack and the clothes she was wearing.

She fell asleep in the alley, her dreams haunted with thought of foster care. And haunted with memories of her father beating her. And other bad memories.

When she awoke, she assumed it was morning. She didn't really know, considering the clock that used to sit on her bedside table wasn't there. She pulled out her iPod from her backpack to check the time. It was already three in the afternoon.

She felt like she was supposed to be doing something. Normally she'd head to the shop where she worked at noon. Now, though, she had nothing to do.

She sighed, turning her iPod off. It'd be best for her not to use it often. Unless she found an outlet where she could charge it, it'd probably die quickly if she left it on.

She bit her lip. She could always just walk around, but she wasn't really in the mood. She put her iPod in her backpack, then pulled out the notebook and pen that were inside of it. She decided she'd just resort to the only thing that ever kept het strong. Music.

She began writing a small rap song. Rap was one of the best outlets she had. It was a way to get put her frustration and hurt and sadness.

_I've tried to stay strong for so very long_

_But my entire life just feels so wrong_

_On the inside and out, without a doubt_

_I'm dying, I'm crying, I just want to shout_

_I just want to plead to be left alone_

_I did not feel at home in my own home_

_I only felt hate and venom and rage_

_I never felt loved, I only felt cuffed_

_Restrained by my pain, locked up in chains_

_But I survived through all of the hurt_

_But now that don't matter 'cause now life's just worse_

_I feel like I'm cursed, immersed in the worst kind of hurt on the Earth_

_He always told me that I had no worth_

_Told me that I'm just an ungrateful girl_

_I'm drowned in the hurt and the hateful words_

_What do I even have left in this world?_

_I've tried and I've tried to stay strong through the pain_

_But now my hard work was all done in vain_

_I've been strong through all of the shit I've lived through_

_But nothing came out of living with abuse_

She sighed when she was done. She frowned, reading over it. It wasn't good. At all. She shoved the notebook and pencil back into her backpack, frustrated. There was _nothing_ to do. She was on the streets, she didn't want to waste her phone battery, she didn't have a job, she couldn't go to school, she couldn't just sit there and write all day. She let out an agrivated breath and sighed, standing up.

"Guess I gotta find a job then," she muttered to herself.

She wasn't sure what she was looking for. Just a job. A job that would at least let her afford food. She looked around at some of the buildings she passed as she walked around. Most of them were places that Cassidy knew wouldn't accept a girl who was living on the streets. She finally saw a small shop, and hoped whoever owned it would at least pay her to sweep the floor in the morning or stock the shelves while no one was there. She entered the building, keeping her hood up over her head so that her messy hair wasn't visible. Messy hair probably wouldn't make a great first impression. She saw a young man, probably in his early to mid twenties, standing by the register, and she walked over to him.

"Hi," the man said, "can I help you?"

"Yeah, uh, are you accepting jobs at all?" Cassidy asked quietly, staring at the counter because she was afraid too look into his eyes to see the rejection she knew that she was about to get.

"No, sorry," the guy said, sounding like he felt bad for her. She nodded and turned to leave, then he spoke again. "But if you wanna get something from here to drink and something to eat right now, go ahead."

So it was that obvious that she didn't have a home? Already? Was it the fact that she was even asking for a job? Was it the clothes and the backpack? The way she wasn't looking at him? Just the way she spoke? She didn't know how it was obvious, and she was worried that anyone else she asked would know right away as well. Cassidy bit her lip and shook her head, tears brimming her eyes. "No, I'm fine. Thank you."

She walked quickly out of the small store and kept her head low as she walked briskly down the sidewalk, her breath a little shaky as though she was going to cry. She wasn't going to, though, because she knew that if she did that in front of anyone passing by on the street there was a possibility that they'd pay attention to her, and she really didn't need anyone paying attention to her.

She chewed on her bottom lip for a few minutes as she walked, then sighed and leaned against the wall of a building. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a few deep breaths, calming herself down, then opened them. Once she was finally calm, she kept walking, trying to find a shop or some place that might actually hire her to clean or whatever. Four shops and four rejections later, she finally gave up and walked into a small diner. She knew that she didn't have money, but she hoped that she'd at least be able to sit down for a while. Her stomach gnawed at her and she regretted not taking up the guy's offer at the first store to grab something to eat or drink. She was starving.

She walked over to a booth at one end of the diner and sat down at the table. There was hardly anyone else there. Just two women behind the counter, one person sitting at the counter talking to one of the women, and four others. She hoped that none of the workers had a problem with her sitting there.

Cassidy sighed and closed her eyes, holding her head up with her hands. She let out a shaky breath, and gnawed on her bottom lip for a while. How was it possible for her life to get even worse than it already had been. It was one thing for her mom to walk out on her, another for her father to become an alcoholic, and then when he started becoming violent and when Jarod went to jail, Cassidy became her father's punching bag. For years. Now, she didn't even have a home. Police wanted to put her into foster care. She was broke. And apart from all of that, she still had so many other problems in her life. And she had to tell Jarod that she wouldn't see him for a while, but she didn't know how. She couldn't call, she didn't have a phone. She didn't have money to use a payphone anywhere. She seriously had no idea how she'd be able to talk to her brother.

"Would you like a sandwich?" A woman's voice suddenly jerked Cassidy from her thoughts, making her jump slightly.

Cassidy looked up at the woman who had been behind the counter just minutes before. She looked around her age, maybe a year or two older. Cassidy read the name tag. Anna. "No, I'm fine, thanks," Cassidy replied tiredly, shaking her head.

The girl, Anna, gave her a slightly concerned look. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked.

"What?" Cassidy said. Then she realized that she'd been crying silently for the past few minutes and that by looking up at Anna, she was revealing the dark bruise on the side of her face. "Shit," she cursed under her breath, "hey, I just realized I'm not hungry. I'm just gonna go."

She tried to get up to leave, but Anna stopped her. "Seriously, are you sure you're okay?" she asked.

Cassidy almost chuckled. The girl almost seemed like she really cared if Cassidy was okay. "I'm fine," Cassidy said, biting her bottom lip, "look, I'm really not hungry. Can you just let me go?" Cassidy stood up and pushed past Anna, praying that the girl wouldn't try to stop her.

"Wait-" Anna reached out and grabbed Cassidy's arm to stop her from leaving, and Cassidy winced. It wasn't that Anna grabbed her arm tightly. It was just that, as usual, Cassidy's arms had bruises on them, and it hurt whenever someone grabbed one of her arms.

"Dammit, let me alone!" Cassidy said quite loudly, turning to glare at the girl. The girl looked almost scared, and Cassidy felt bad for yelling at her, but didn't do anything to show that. She turned and quickly exited the diner, hoping that Anna wouldn't return, trying to make sure that Cassidy was okay when she really wasn't. She walked a few feet ahead, then sighed when she heard someone exiting the diner.

"Please wait," Anna pleaded, getting nearer as Cassidy tried to walk away.

Cassidy turned around, sighing and rolling her eyes. The girl clearly wasn't going to give up. "What do you want?" Cassidy spat out, more bitterly than she had intended.

The girl looked nervous again, then held out a paper bag to Cassidy. "Here," she said softly, "I just wanted to give you this."

Cassidy gave Anna an unsure look, the took the bag and looked inside of it. There was a sandwich and a bottle of water in it. "Uh, what's this?" Cassidy asked, a little confused.

"It's pretty easy to spot who's on the streets and who's not," Anna shrugged, seemingly still a little nervous, "I just figured I'd give you some food. Sorry if I offended you somehow in there. I just wanted to give you the sandwhich, but when I saw the bruise on your face I was worried you were hurt."

"Oh," Cassidy frowned, feeling like a bitch. Anna was only trying to do something nice and she snapped at her. "Uh, thanks. And sorry."

Anna gave her a weak smile. "It's okay. But seriously, are you okay? That's a pretty bad bruise."

"I'm fine," Cassidy replied, "don't worry."

"Uh, do you mind sharing how you got it?" Anna asked.

"Yeah, I do," Cassidy nodded, "look, thanks for the food. I gotta go. Bye." Cassidy turned and started walking once more, praying that Anna wasn't going to try to talk to her once more. Sure, she seemed nice, but Cassidy wasn't really one to talk to others. She typically kept to herself.

"Hold on," Anna said gently, putting a hand on Cassidy's shoulder to stop her. Cassidy turned to look at her. "Do you need anything? Like anything at all? If you do, I can help you. You can even stay at the diner overnight if you need. Anything."

Cassidy started to shake her head, then remembered what she'd been thinking about earlier. "There is one thing," she replied, "can I borrow your cell?" Anna hesitated at first, then nodded. "Don't worry," Cassidy assured her, "I'm not gonna run off with it. I just need to call someone." Anna nodded and handed Cassidy the phone. She walked over to the side of the building, a few feet away from Cassidy, to give her some privacy.

Cassidy dialed the number she wanted to call, and waited for someone to pick up. Someone picked up, and she asked to speak with the person she wanted to talk to.

"Hey," she said softly into the phone.

"Cass?" Jarod asked. "Everything alright? You usually time the calls so we don't waste all of the time we can talk for a month in just a matter of days."

"Jar," she said, her voice a little shaky at hearing her brother and knowing what she was about to say to him, "I'm not gonna be able to visit for a while anymore. I just thought it'd be better for me to tell you so you know why I'm not calling or visiting anymore."

"Cass?" Jarod asked, sounding concerned. "What's wrong? Why can't you visit? Is it Dad? Is he not letting you visit for some reason? What's going on? Are you hurt?"

Cassidy was slightly surprised that Jarod wasn't informed about his own father's death, but said nothing about it, figuring a prison guard would eventually let him know some time in the next few days. "I'm not hurt," she said, "I just can't call or come to see you anymore. I'm sorry Jar. I love you. Bye."

When Cassidy hung up, she felt the tears brimming her eyes. She hardly explained anything to Jarod and probably left him worried about her, but she had get it over with, and she wanted to do it quickly so she'd be able to spare herself more pain. Cassidy walked back to Anna and handed her the phone. "Thank you," she said quietly, turning to leave.

"Wait," Anna said, "I never caught your name."

"Cassidy," Cassidy replied without turning around. She kept walking for who knows how long, then eventually her legs were aching from walking all day. She walked into an empty alley and sat down in the corner that was formed where a dumpster and wall met. She opened the bag that had the sandwich and water bottle in it. She sighed lightly, lifting the sandwich out. She tried not to eat it quickly, and only drank a bit of her water, figuring that she'd need the water the next day. When she was done, she tossed her garbage into the dumpster and slid her waterbottle into her backpack. Then, using her backpack as a rather uncomfortable pillow, she lied down and fell asleep.

Cassidy sighed when she woke up. She stretched out a bit, then started walking, looking around for a place to earn some sort of money. For the whole day, she found nothing at all. None of the shops were hiring, either that or everyone could tell she was homeless and didn't want her around. She was grateful that she saved most of the water, because it was extremely hot out during the day, so the water kept her hydrated. For hours, she just walked around. She walked past the diner that Anna worked at and considered walking into it, at least to take a break from walking, but then decided against it. She wasn't trying to make friends. She had to remind herself of that.

By the time that it was dark, she was exhausted. And hungry. And thirsty, because she ran out of water a few hours before that. Realizing that she wasn't going to make any progress during the rest of the night, she walked back into an alley. The same alley she'd slept in the previous night. At least she managed to find her way around pretty well by walking around so much. She sat down in the corner that she'd slept in the night before, but didn't fall asleep right away. A few seconds later, someone started walking into the alley. Cassidy figured, and hoped, that he was just going to walk past her, but he seemed to be walking straight towards her. Her heart started pounding in her chest and she stood up, unsure of what else to do.

"Hello?" she said. Her voice came out shakier, and much more afraid, than she had planned for it to.

The man didn't respond at all. He just kept walking towards her. Then when he was only about eight feet away, he spoke. "Hey CAL."

**A/N:**

**Hey all. I know I've been taking ages to update. That goes for every story I have on here. Summer kinda throws me off with updating. But school's starting for me, which, unlike most people on here, means that I'll be able to update more frequently. That's probably because once I'm back at school, I'm following a 'schedule' for the entire day. That means I'm not gonna try to fit drawing, playing Watch_Dogs, making a minecraft animation, writing stories, writing songs, and walking my dog all in one day. I write more often when my daily routine is generally the same (a.k.a. being at school for this long, not going to bed too late, and doing homework at this time.) It gives me more of an idea as to when I'll be able to write and for how long, which helps me set a schedule for myself during the day. Anyway, I'll update soon. I'm telling the truth this time too.**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N:  
Ok, I just want to warn that it gets a little dark this chapter. Nothing too bad. Nothing rated R. But it does get a little dark. It ALMOST gets dirty, but it doesn't. Don't worry. More notes at the end.**

***  
Cassidy's heart stopped completely. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Couldn't even blink a couple times to see if what was happening was really real life. Why was he there? How did he find her? More importantly, what was he planning on doing to her. He stepped closer to her, and soon he was only about a foot away from her. "I know you called him," he said, "didn't we talk about this already, Cal? I told you not to talk to him anymore."

Cassidy still didn't know what to do. "Please don't hurt me," she whispered fearfully.

"Cal, I told you how much I hate cheaters. I told you not to talk to him. But you didn't listen. You talked to him. Even worse, you told him you _loved_ him. That sounds a lot like cheating to me. Do you have anything to say? Are you going to deny that you're cheating on me, or are you going to tell me the truth? That you _are_ cheating on me?"

"Please don't hurt me," Cassidy repeated in a whisper, backing as far into the corner as she could. She didn't know what to do. If she denied what he was saying, would he hurt her? If she didn't, would he hurt her?

"I guess that means you are," he said bitterly. "Bitch," he hissed, slapping her across the face. Cassidy's cheek, the one that wasn't already sporting a bruise, stung horribly. She let out a quiet whimper and closed her eyes, knowing that there was going to be another hit. She learned what to expect from all of the times that she was hit by her father, and knew that this was no different. Well it was, but at the moment, it was just like it was with her father. Then the next hit came. Not to the face, though, like Cassidy was expecting. This one came to her stomach. It was a hard, angry hit, and she let out a painful cry.

"Shut up," he hissed, punching her across the face when she cried out in pain. This time, she held back the painful cry she wanted to let out. Even though she was in pain, she held back her cries.

He punched her across the face once more, then shoved her against the dumpster so that she would fall onto the ground. When she was on the ground, he kicked her in the side. "Ungrateful bitch," he growled, kicking her again, "you _cheated_ on me. You _ignored_ me. So this is what you get. And you're gonna have to deal with it." Cassidy knew that what he was saying was anything but true. She never cheated on him. She _couldn't_ cheat on him because they weren't a couple. She didn't even know his name. She only knew his voice and what he looked like.

Two more kicks and a few punches to the head later, he stopped and looked down at her. He was breathing somewhat heavily, and Cassidy looked up at him fearfully. She was now crying, but not loud enough for anyone to hear her. She was too scared to cry loudly, knowing that doing so would probably just get her killed. "Are you sorry?" he asked. Cassidy looked at him, not sure what he wanted to hear. Then she just nodded, hoping it'd be the answer that would get him to stop all together.

"Good," he said, "then I forgive you." Cassidy continued to stare at him worriedly, and continued crying quietly. He just stared back. "You don't believe me? You don't believe I forgive you?" he asked. Cassidy just kept crying and kept looking at him. "Fine," he said, chuckling lightly, "then I guess I'll just have to prove just how much I forgive you. Get up."

Cassidy hesitated, then stood up, finding it hard to do so because of how exhausted and in pain she was. He grabbed her by her shoulders and pushed her against the brick wall, his face inches from hers. She continued crying quietly, sure of what was coming next. "What's the matter CAL?" he asked. Cassidy could just barely make out his sinister grin through the darkness. "I don't understand why you're so upset. I'm only going to show you how much I forgive you. How much I love you. I don't know why you seem so upset."

Cassidy just cried a bit more, and a bit more loudly. Then, silencing her, his mouth came crashing onto hers. She tried to struggle in his grip, but she was too weak from exhaustion and pain, and he was just too strong in general. She tried to keep her mouth as shut as possible, but he forced his tongue into it, and Cassidy felt the urge to throw up right then and there, but her stomach was empty, so she couldn't. His mouth assaulted her for a minute or two, then he pulled his head away, breathing heavily. Cassidy just returned to crying, disgusted, fearful, hurt, and feeling extremely vulnerable. "What's wrong CAL?" he asked between breaths, still smirking. "Need more reassurance that I forgive you? Is this not enough?"

Cassidy shook her head. She didn't need more assurance. She didn't. She didn't want to know what would be 'enough'. She didn't want to experience 'enough'.

But he seemed to assume that her shaking her head meant that it wasn't enough, and he grinned even more. He grabbed the bottom of her hoodie and tried pulling it off of her. Cassidy struggled not to let him, but she was too weak, and he pulled it off. She tried to scream as he tried pulling off her shirt, wishing that someone would hear her and come to her aid. Come to stop the bastard. But he silenced her by crushing her mouth with his once more. She would've preferred a punch to silence her than the second assault by his mouth. She would'be preferred being beaten by her father. Would've preferred anything over this. When he pulled back, he returned to attempting to remove her shirt. She screamed again, fighting to keep her shirt on, but it was all in vain. Her shirt was off ten seconds later, and now she was full on sobbing as loudly as she could. "Shh, it's okay," he said, "you don't have to worry. I'm gonna show you just how much I forgive you. Just how much I love you." His face got near hers again, and she turned her head so his lips wouldn't touch hers. That didn't seem to matter to him, though, because he began kissing her down her neck, his tongue touching her skin as he did so. She cried as loudly as she could, wishing someone would appear and save her.

Cassidy felt too vulnerable in the position she was in. All she was wearing now was a bra and her pants. His hands were on her hips, and one found its way to her backside. He kissed down her neck, and then moved to her stomach. She cried and cried, but nothing happened. Nothing at all. When his lips reached the tops of her pants, he stopped and looked back at her, straightening up again. His mouth went over hers again, and his tongue threatened to choke her as the hand that wasn't on her backside pulled down her zipper. She screamed and cried, but no one heard her. She tried to punch him in the stomach as he began pulling her jeans down, but it only seemed to make his attack on her mouth stronger. She bit down on his tongue, and he pulled back. "Ow!" he yelled. He looked as though he was about to hit her or yell at her, but then his expression eased. "It's okay," he said, "I know it was an accident. You just aren't used to this. Aren't used to someone loving you as much as me. That's okay. I understand that. But I guess I'll just have to reassure you even more that I forgive you now that you've physically hurt me."

Cassidy let out another cry. Her whole face was wet with tears, and she now lost all hope of anyone helping her. He kissed the tears on her face. "It's okay," he said softly when he was done, "I'm not angry. I forgive you. I know you don't believe me, so I'll just have to prove it.

His hand returned to her backside, and the other one continued to ease her pants down. She screamed, and his mouth covered hers again. Her pants were down in seconds, and Cassidy feared what would happen next. He grabbed her by her arms and pinned her against the side of the building, taking his face off of hers. She screamed for help when her mouth was no longer covered, but doubted that help would come. He just grinned at her, and his hands found her hips. He ran his hands along her side, down her thighs, and up a little above her hips. His face collided with hers again, and she felt utterly hopeless. One of his hands left her body and the other returned to her backside, which was now only covered by her underwear. She heard the sound of his own zipper unzipping, and felt his pants land by her feet. He took his face off hers again, and she screamed. She screamed as loudly as she could, her voice straining for someone to hear her. Now he was only in his boxers, and she was only in a bra and underwear. It was pretty clear to her what was next. After another, long amount of time that his lips were on hers and his tongue was in her mouth, one of his hands founder her bare back while the other stayed on her backside. She screamed when he lifted his mouth off of hers for a breath of air. His hand ran along her back for a few seconds as she screamed, and he kept whispering that everything was alright, then his hand landed on her bra strap. She felt him fiddling with it for a few seconds, then suddenly she heard someone yelling. The yelling, however, didn't stop him from pressing his mouth against hers once more as he continued to fiddle with the bra strap.

"Get off of her!" Cassidy heard someone scream. She fell to the ground seconds later, and realized that someone had tackled her attacker to the ground. The person who had suddenly arrived swung an arm at her attacker's face, then stood up. "Get out of here!" he yelled furiously. "Now!"

Her attacker stood up and went to swing at the person who came, but then the person punched him in the stomach before her attacker's fist made contact with his face. "Go! Now! Or I'm calling the cops!" Her attacker then turned and ran.

Cassidy was breathing heavily between sobs, and she tried to catch her breath. "Here," the guy who stopped her attacker said softly, handing her the hoodie that had been ripped off of her viciously. With shaky hands, she grabbed the hoodie and threw it on. Then the man handed her her jeans. She put them on, still crying. She didn't trust herself standing up, so she curled into a ball in the corner, crying. A minute or so later, the man stepped over to her and crouched down next to her. "You can't stay here tonight," he said, his voice gentle, "it's not safe. That guy's gonna come back if you do."

Cassidy just nodded, and let out a shaky breath. "Th-thank you," she said.

"Don't thank me," he said. He stood up and held out a hand for her to grab for support. She hesitated before placing her hand on his and pushing herself up, using it as support. When she was finally up, she stumbled from exhaustion, pain, and how upset she was, and he put an arm behind her back, steadying her. She tensed up a little as he did so, and he recognized that. "I'm just helping you walk," he said seriously, but also gently, "don't worry."

She nodded and he helped her out of the alley. "Okay, my car is just a block away. We're just gonna have to walk a bit. Is that okay?" Cassidy nodded once more, although she would've much preferred to never have to walk again in her life. They walked for about seven minutes, then they walked into a small parking lot. The guy pointed to a Hummer H2 that was about twenty feet away. "It's just that one," he said. Cassidy nodded, and they walked to the car. The guy opened the door to the backseat, and Cassidy was a little relieved that he didn't try to get her to sit in the front. It seemed almost that he knew that she wouldn't want that after previously feeling so vulnerable. She was no longer crying, just sniffling a bit, and she stared out the window.

The car started up, and the guy started driving. For a minute or two, they didn't speak, then the guy spoke. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Cassidy."

The guy nodded. He glanced in the rear-view mirror when the car stopped at a red light, and then turned to look at her, clearly concerned. "Damn, did he hit you?" he asked.

Cassidy nodded, still just looking out the window. Why did the guy sound so familiar? She sighed lightly, not really wanting to think about it at the moment. "Here," the guy said, pulling some napkins from the glove box. He handed them to Cassidy, and she glanced at him, a little confused. Why was he giving her napkins. And why did he look so familiar as well? "Your nose is bleeding," he said after a second, realizing that she seemed confused when he gave her the napkin.

"Oh." Cassidy held the napkin against her nose, still not sure why he looked so familiar.

Someone behind them honked their car horn because the light was green, and the guy stuck his hand out the window. Cassidy couldn't help but smile for half a second when he gave whoever was behind him the middle finger. He then continued driving, glanicng into the rear-view mirror now and then. About ten minutes passed, then the guy broke the silence. "Cassidy, can I ask how old you are?"

"Sixteen," Cassidy replied quietly. The guy's expression turned somewhat angry, and he shook his head. A few more minutes passed, then he glanced back into the mirror. "Your nose stop bleeding?

"Yeah," Cassidy replied tiredly.

"Alright," the guy said, "hey, you want me to take you to the hospital or something? Did he hurt you that bad?"

"No," Cassidy shook her head, "no hospital. I'm fine."

The guy nodded, and Cassidy sighed lightly. A few more minutes went by, and she decided to talk first this time. "What's your name?" she asked.

"Marshall," the man replied. Then it hit her. She knew why she recognized the voice, she knew why he looked familiar. He was Marshall Mathers III. He was Slim Shady. He was Eminem.

**A/N: **

**I normally don't post two chapters in one night, and I definitely don't do them back to back, but I just wanted to get this chapter out. Plus, like I said, my schedules are more controlled now. Anyway, please comment, vote, and follow. See ya.**


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